Sea legs

46’56 N 012’03 W
8.5 knots

We’ve come to know Tecla, and Tecla has come to know us. For some of us, more intimately that we would have liked, but she held us as we found our sea legs and then rocked us to sleep at night (not always gently).

We, in turn, have come to know how to steer her in four-meter swell, the right rhythm for sweating the sheets (all together now), the purr she makes cruising along at 8 knots, and how to ask her nicely but firmly to not point directly into the wind. 

And if ships have personalities – as they most certainly do – she is happy-go-lucky with a solid, dependable core; the type of friend that will take you on a pub crawl around town but also bring you toast and coffee in bed the next day when all you can do is feel very sorry for yourself.

When the going is good, she is upbeat, jutting her bowsprit out happily and dancing along over the massive rolling waves. At the very peak of them, just for a moment, she feels nimble and weightless. We, her newest recruits, would do well to take inspiration from her and try to be a little more nimble ourselves.

And when the going gets tough, she shows her iron will. Resolute and sturdy, she took us through the waves and the wind and the flying foam of a dark, stormy night. Not once did we feel it was too much for her; she carried us right through into sunrise, where there was porridge and coffee and a new day waiting for us. 

Follow the Tecla, every 4 hours an up-date:

All is well, 

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